


Love is only for the lucky (and the strong)

by KnightOfTheInksword



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Multi, alpha!Enjolras, omega!Grantaire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16989519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfTheInksword/pseuds/KnightOfTheInksword
Summary: In a society where omegas are seen as nothing more than property it is no surprise that after Grantaire's father is unable to pay off his debt to a certain rich family, he is offered as a mate to their alpha son. Naturally Grantaire fears the worst, but after he sees the alpha his feelings soon turn from disgust to absolute awe.Or the one where Enjolras offers to help out Bossuet's omega friend by marrying him and ends up falling madly in love with him instead.





	1. First Impressions

Enjolras was fuming. How dare his parents include him in their wretched dealings? Didn’t he make it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with them? Didn’t he refuse to take a mate or mates – because let’s face it, it was expected of an alpha of his status to have at least three omegas answering to his every beck and call. It made Enjolras sick to his stomach seeing the way omegas were generally treated by society. Especially the poor. The rich omegas who came from privileged families were still occasionally lucky enough to be married into a respectable family, but the omegas of the poor were more often treated as property: used as a means to pay off a dept owed to a rich alpha.

This was incidentally the same circumstances that found Enjolras standing in front of a beaten wooden door of an old, weathered farmhouse. The family inside owed a rather large sum of money to Enjolras’ father and as would be expected after it became clear they could not pay it, Enjolras was now here to collect the only other payment that would be considered acceptable: their omega son. The alpha sighed once more before running a shaky hand through his blond locks and firmly knocking on the door. He heard some scuffling on the other end before a middle-aged beta woman opened the door and made a gesture for him to enter. 

“If you would please follow me to the parlour, Sir.”

Enjolras gave a curt bow and after shrugging off his neatly tailored red coat followed her into the dining room. Once he was seated the maid simply curtsied and disappeared into the house, leaving him alone in the rather cold, ill-furnished room. He could not help but notice the state of everything in it. Old, worn of long usage and bantered. There were no ornaments, no fine linin; nothing that Enjolras was used to seeing in his parents’ houses. In fact, the only piece of cloth that was there was an old woollen blanket draped over the hard-wooden chair Enjolras was seated on. It was clear that even in this deprived state the family were still trying to show a manner of respect towards him. All it did was make Enjolras feel guilty. He was nothing special. He did not deserve their hospitality. 

His train of thought was broken when a dark-haired alpha that reeked of alcohol and a frail omega woman, undoubtably his mate, entered the room. Enjolras quickly rose to his feet to great them. 

“We bid you welcome to our humble home, Sir. May I interest you in a glass of wine or a cup of tea perhaps?”

Enjolras shook his head firmly. “I thank you but that would not be necessary. I have some business in Paris and I fear I cannot be detained long.”

In fairness, Enjolras did not have to leave for Paris until the day after tomorrow. He was not prone to lying, but he made an exception this once for three reasons. Firstly, because he never enjoyed socialising of any kind (and therefore never consumed alcohol), secondly because he could plainly see that the family could not even support themselves properly and therefore would have to spend unnecessary money on him because of basic structural norms (which he disagreed with anyway) and lastly, because he already felt extremely unwelcome and uncomfortable with the whole situation about to take place. He’d rather not put it off any longer.

The alpha seemed to understand and simply nodded. “If you will sir, my son will be sent for immediately as not to delay your journey.” He then turned sharply, but not unkindly, to his servant and ordered her to fetch the boy. 

Enjolras could not help but notice that the man’s wife did not meet his eyes, and for good reason. Why would any mother want to look at the man who was about to take her son from her. In that moment all Enjolras wanted to do was reassure her that he was not like his father and that he would never dream of mistreating her boy. He wanted to tell her that he was here against his will and that he hated the system and the way omegas were treated. He wanted to tell her just how much he was fighting for change, but before he could even open his mouth the dark-haired alpha turned to him.  
“I believe I have to sign some documents? I was let to believe by your father that you would have them on you,” here he paused and nervously licked his lips before continuing “as proof, you know, of the transaction.”  
Enjolras inwardly winched at the words but handed the other man the leather folder containing the documents. The sooner they got this over with the better.

* * *  
Grantaire sat with his back to the window when he heard car wheels rolling to a stop on the gravel outside. This was it, he though miserably, the alpha that he was supposed to spend the rest of his life devoted to was here to drag him any. He didn’t turn around when he heard the car door slam. He didn’t need to. These alphas were all the same. 

For a few years now Grantaire prided himself with the fact that he was not married or bonded yet. No one wanted to be bonded to a wrench like him anyway. Too much maintenance he once overheard his mother’s friend tell her behind his back. It was true. Grantaire was hardly the perfect little obedient omega everyone expected him to be. He was an alcoholic, pale, ill looking and not to mention the fact that he had a mouth on him. 

That was his parents biggest concern when they heard he was to be sold off. He’d never forget the plea in his mother’s voice when she begged him: “Please R, for me, don’t go around bad-mouthing this alpha and standing up to him. My heart would not be able to handle seeing him discipline you.” For once Grantaire actually did not fight back. He loved his mother and he decided at that moment he would try his best to keep his tongue in check. He doubted he’d be able to do so for much longer than was strictly necessary though. The moment they left his parents’ house he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d piss his alpha off. 

Keeping his mouth shut, however, was not his greatest concern. No. It was what would inevitably happen the moment he was alone with the alpha: Mating, knotting, bonding. The words stroke fear into the very core of his soul. He would have to take a knot. He lacked the experience, but he’d asked around before and the stories were not pretty. 

An involuntary shiver ran through Grantaire at the thought of being used and discarded once his alpha was done with him. In the end, no matter how much society wanted to do these arranged marriages up, that’s what it came down to. He was simply a hole. Something to be filled, taken, used until he ceased to be. Alphas were almost never monogamous. Omegas on the other hand were heavily punished if they strayed even a little. He wondered how many miserable other omegas this particular alpha has at home when a knock on the door drew him back. 

“May I come in?”

In was the soft voice of Grantaire’s family servant. He didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn when he heard the door slowly opening and closing again. The presence of the beta filled the room and Grantaire felt two arms wrap around him. “It’s going to be alright,” she whispered into his hair. “He doesn’t look too bad.” They both knew it was a lie. There was no way an alpha of Enjolras’ status was going to treat Grantaire like anything else than a lowly whore. 

With one final sigh, he rose to his feet and walked out the door. He faintly heard the beta grab his suitcase, but he was too miserable to properly pay attention and missed her quickly slipping a brand new sketchbook into his bag before following him out. 

* * *

In the parlour Enjolras was becoming restless. The paperwork was done and small talk was never his forte. He vaguely heard footsteps coming down the staircase and turned around towards the door just as the beta servant and a curly haired man walked in. By the looks of it the boy was in his early twenties and could not have been much younger than himself. 

“This is my son, Grantaire.” The alpha spoke proudly. Enjolras just gaped at the man, his attention drawn by the slight curves the omega presented. He was truly very handsome and Enjolras straightened, determined to make a good first impression.

“Hello, Grantaire. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Enjolras greeted. He had meant for it to sound welcoming, but it came out cold and stiff. Like almost everything else Enjolras says. To his utter disappointment the boy did not look up but kept his eyes firmly fixed on his shoes when he mumbled something. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Speak up, boy!” Grantaire’s father was loudly saying. With a final slack of his shoulders Grantaire relented and raised his head revealing the two bluest eyes Enjolras had ever seen. 

And that’s when he knew he was fucked.


	2. Lonely Nights

When he lifted his head, Grantaire was not expecting to be met with Apollo himself. The alpha in front of him was not only radiating confidence and dominance but was also fiercely handsome. His golden curls, strong jawline and tall figure reminded Grantaire of the marble statues he used to see in Bossuet’s text books. A proper Greek Adonis. And to think he was stuck with Grantaire as his omega. The thought made Grantaire flinch. 

He swallowed audibly and licked his lips, trying to maintain eye contact although his instincts were yelling at him to look down again and submit. After a few seconds of awkward staring the alpha seemed to recollect himself and with two quick long strides made his way over to where Grantaire was standing and extended his hand in a manner of greeting. 

“Enjolras.”

“Grantaire.”

He shook Enjolras’ hand, still dumbstruck by the man’s aura. Neither one of them spoke and Grantaire noticed the silence was just about to get uncomfortable again when the alpha turned around stiffly and fixed Grantaire’s father with an expected look. Without another word the two made their way outside, followed by Grantaire, his silently weeping mother and their servant carrying Grantaire’s suitcase.  
Once the suitcase was safely in the car Enjolras shook the alpha’s hand and Grantaire forced himself to climb into the car. He was sitting in the passenger seat next to Enjolras and before his mind could fully register everything that was happening the door closed and Enjolras started the car. Grantaire managed to wave goodbye, and continued to stare outside the window as his childhood house faded away in the review mirror. He was alone with the alpha.  
* * *  
Enjolras could sense the omega’s discomfort, but he had no idea what to do. He kept sneaking side glances at the man next to him, but he never broke the silence. Thankfully after a few minutes of driving Enjolras noted that the omega – Grantaire he said his name was – fell asleep. 

Enjolras gave out a relieved sigh and felt himself relax more. For a man who was running the leading organisation on omega rights he was perfectly aware that when it came to actually courting one he had no idea what he was doing. There was a reason he was single after all. 

Somewhere in his mind he registered that he will have to converse with the man beside him eventually, but unlike on so many other occasions, in this situation Enjolras was at a lost for what to say.  
A part of him wished Combeferre was here to help. Or better yet, Courfeyrac. It would make it so much easier if someone who actually knew how to have a lively conversation was present. But in the end they weren’t, and Enjolras couldn’t help sneaking another side-glance at the handsome brunette next to him. His bond mate to be, a part of Enjolras’ brain unhelpfully supplied.  
* * *  
Grantaire woke up when the car came to a halt. They were parked next to an expensive looking hotel and after blinking a few times he wordlessly followed Enjolras upstairs to the room he was currently staying in. Grantaire couldn’t help but wonder at the alpha’s silence. Had he already somehow managed to offend him? Was it because he fell asleep in the car? In Grantaire’s defence he had not slept properly for weeks after receiving the news that he was to be married off as payment for his father’s debts. He couldn’t help his current exhaustion.

After entering the room Enjolras spoke to Grantaire for the first time since their arrival.  
“Feel free to do as you please. There’s an urgent paper I have to finish. I’ll be at the desk if you need anything.” And with that Enjolras strode towards the desk in front of the window, already covered in his books and papers. Enjolras took his laptop out and after a while the only audible sound was that of his fingers moving over the keyboard. 

Grantaire reluctantly watched him work, but after a few minutes delved into his own suitcase in order to retrieve his sketchpad. Instead he came across the new one stuffed in there and with an equal amount of shock and delight opened it on the first page.

To Grantaire:  
When the night has been too lonely and road has been to long – and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong. Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes the rose.  
\- Bette Midler

Fighting back tears, Grantaire turned the page and spent the rest of the afternoon sketching. It was only after the sun had gone down and he was struggling to see properly that Grantaire realised with a shock that he would soon have to get ready for bed. As if sensing the omega’s sudden discomfort Enjolras looked up and their eyes met. 

“Feel free to sleep in the bed. I will likely not be joining you, seeing as I’ve still got a few pages to write and then have to proofread it all. Go ahead and rest. We leave for Paris pretty early tomorrow.” 

Grantaire really wanted to say something more but all that came out was “okay” in a voice so small that he himself did not even recognise it. It did however seem to satisfy Enjolras because with a curt nod he was back, typing furiously at his keyboard as if it had personally offended him. 

After Grantaire had gotten ready for bed he lay in it cautiously watching Enjolras. He seemed to have been serious before, but Grantaire’s mind did not allow him the rest he so desperately desired. He did not yet trust the alpha, although Grantaire had to admit that he was suddenly not so opposed to the idea of mating and bonding with him. Enjolras. There was something about him that fascinated Grantaire and caused his heart to speed up, but at the same time Grantaire’s cynical side told him that he was setting himself up for disappointment. Enjolras was still an alpha, and that meant danger. With these conflicted feelings, the omega finally drifted off into a fitful slumber. 

* * *  
Grantaire had thought that once they’d reached Paris and Enjolras took him to his actual home that he would mate and bond with Grantaire there. Instead he was met with the luxury of having his own bedroom and his alpha avoiding him like the plague. His alpha. They had gotten married on their arrival in Paris at the magistrate. It was quick and sufficient (the way Enjolras did most things Grantaire would soon come to learn) and in no manner, shape or form romantic. 

Enjolras didn’t come to him that first night at his new home. Nor any other night since and although Grantaire was grateful this alpha showed no interest in bedding him, he could not help the strange disappointment seeping through and the little voice in his head telling him it’s because he’s not good enough.  
It was these self-deprecating thoughts that Grantaire entertained as he was sitting in a bar with a bottle of wine in his hand sulking to his friends. 

“Why won’t he touch me?” 

Bahorel looked at Grantaire sympathetically before shrugging and answering: “He must be either straight or blind”. 

“But he’s an alpha,” Grantaire wined. “He’s supposed to have a hell of a sex drive isn’t he?” 

Feuilly just shrugged. Both he and Bahorel were alphas and although it wasn’t their sexual preference they could vouch for the fact that alphas usually went mad for omegas – especially male ones since they were so rare. 

“Am I really that undesirable?” Grantaire continued, taking another swig of wine. “What do I have to do to impress him?” 

“I honestly don’t know what advice to give you, R.” 

Feuilly and Grantaire had been friends for almost as long as him and Bossuet – meaning since they were mere boys. Bahorel was new to the equation, Grantaire only having met him when he moved with Enjolras to Paris two weeks ago. He’d known of him ever since he and Feuilly became an item but had never met him face to face before then. Needless to say the two of them hit it off right away. Both of them shared the same sarcastic sense of humour, enjoyed wrestling and most importantly, both of them loved to drink. 

Of course, if Bossuet was here already – and not running late as he was at the moment – or if Grantaire had only referred to Enjolras by his actual name instead of Apollo his two friends would have been able to answer all his questions and solve all his problems. But as it is, neither Bahorel nor Feuilly were aware of the fact that the cold alpha responsible for Grantaire’s misery was in fact no other than their righteous leader and close friend Enjolras.

So instead of giving him advice they just kept buying him drinks, hoping to drown out the pain he felt with alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love Bette Midler's song The Rose so needless to say that's also what inspired the title of the work. <3


	3. Early Morning Madness

Enjolras was pacing the floor of his apartment, worrying. It was passed 03:00 am and Grantaire was not back yet. He’d mentioned going out with some friends and Enjolras didn’t want to be the kind of alpha that dictates his husband’s every move so he had just nodded and replied “Have fun”. Now however, for the second time in 20 minutes he picked up the phone and dialled Combeferre’s number.  
As he listened to the ringing on the other end he kept thinking the worst. Shouldn’t Grantaire be home by now? What if something happened? They haven’t bonded yet, which means that Grantaire lacks the bite mark on his neck that would signal to the other alphas he was taken. Enjolras had been reluctant to take Grantaire to bed. He didn’t want to rush into things, no matter how attracted he was to the man. 

“Enjolras it’s 3am for crying it out loud! This better be an emergency.” Combeferre’s voice sounded scruffy, like he had just woken up. 

“Grantaire isn’t home yet.”

It was silent on the other end of the line and then a long sigh was audible.  
“Look Enjolras, maybe he decided to stay over at one of his friends’ places –”

“Or maybe he’s just having a good time and still partying like normal people on a Saturday night!” Enjolras heard Courfeyrac interject. Enjolras chose to ignore the jab clearly meant for him, as well as the fact that Courfeyrac was currently at home and thus contradicting himself. Instead he just groaned.  
“But what if something happened?”

“Have you tried calling Grantaire?” Came Combeferre’s calm voice of reason again. 

“He doesn’t have a phone. I’ve been meaning to get him one, but I’ve had other things on my mind.” Enjolras answered truthfully. He was shocked when he had first heard Grantaire didn’t have a cell phone but then thinking back to the worn down house he realised it’s not really a surprise that Grantaire’s parents couldn’t afford to get him one. To Enjolras living without his phone for just a day would be unthinkable. Everything he needed – all his notes, emails, calendar for the upcoming protests and events – were on there.  
“I tried calling Bossuet, but he didn’t answer,” Enjolras added. 

“I think you should give it a few more hours and if Grantaire is not home by tomorrow afternoon I’ll go with you and we can go look for him. Right now, though, I think you should try and get some sleep Enj. He’s probably still with his friends having a good time.”  
A yawn escaped Combeferre’s lips after he said that and Enjolras realised he should probably let his best friends sleep. 

“Okay. Sorry for waking you. I’ll message you if –”

Just then there was a loud knock on his door and Enjolras could faintly hear voices whispering outside. Or trying to at least. One failed miserably and burst out in a fit of giggles as the other tried to shush him. There was no mistaking to whom those two voices belonged to.  
Enjolras briskly walked over and swung the door open, revealing a very flustered Bossuet and a really drunk Grantaire.

* * *  
It was close to 01:00 am when Bossuet finally managed to scurry into the Corinth. He was indeed fashionably late, but in his defence it wasn’t his fault his boss needed him to work overtime tonight – or that his car broke down on the way here – or that the tow truck he called to help him out got a flat tire – or that the alpha driving it then kicked the truck in frustration breaking his toe resulting in him having to call a replacement and an ambulance. No, it wasn’t Bossuet’s fault at all. The universe just generally hated him and occasionally gifted him with the world’s worst bad luck. 

Little did he know if was about to get worse.

When Bossuet finally spotted them, they were dancing. It became clear from the lack of both reserve and grace that all three of his friends were well on their way to being completely inebriated. Except for Grantaire. He was long gone already. 

Bossuet sighed and pushed his way through the sea of people on the dancefloor. When he finally reached his friends Grantaire gave out a loud “Bossuet!”, before pushing away the alpha he was grinding with and stumbling over to him. Bossuet gave Bahorel and Feuilly sharp looks before catching Grantaire. Unfortunately, neither of the alphas seemed to pay the heat in his glare any mind, and after each flashing him a bright smile in greeting went back to making out on the dancefloor. 

Bossuet just shook his head, annoyed with his friends, and made his way over to the booths at the bar with Grantaire. He could not help noticing the alpha from the dancefloor trailing behind them. He just hoped the guy would eventually get the message and leave them alone. 

After sitting Grantaire down at a booth Bossuet immediately went to the bar to order water with the intension of sobering his friend up. When he returned however, he was met with the sight of the alpha kissing Grantaire roughly. A flash of anger blazed through him at Grantaire’s shocking behaviour, but when Grantaire broke the kiss and looked up at him with his pupils the size of pins Bossuet went cold. Grantaire was drugged. 

He looked from Grantaire’s oblivious face to the alpha who had a possessive hand around his friend’s waist and a smirk playing on his lips. Suddenly the dread Bossuet felt was replaced by anger again and he pulled his phone out with one intension only: to call Enjolras. 

Unfortunately for Bossuet he was met with a black screen and the gnawing realisation that his battery had died. When he looked up again the alpha was helping Grantaire to the door, draping his coat possessively around the omega’s shoulders. Anyone watching would simply see the domestic picture of an alpha escorting his mate home – and that’s when Bossuet realised he needed to act fast. 

Running back into the sea of people Bossuet went back to where Bahorel and Feuilly were intertwined. He pulled them apart, hard, and yelled above the noise: “Grantaire just left the bar with some alpha! He’s –” 

Before Bossuet could even finish his sentence Bahorel darted towards the bar area, completely sobered up at the news. Feuilly followed not far behind pushing people out of the way to get through quickly. Bossuet tried to keep up, as well as profusely apologising to everyone getting shoved out of the way. 

He followed his two friends outside, expecting to track Grantaire’s scent to some alleyway. Instead Bossuet ran full force into Feuilly’s back just after exiting the bar. Gathering his wits he looked up to see Bahorel yelling threats at the alpha who had in the meantime released Grantaire. Both alphas had their teeth bared and were ready to fight. It would hardly be the first barfight Bahorel, Feuilly and Bossuet had gotten into, but it would be the first protecting the honour of one of their own. 

Bossuet must admit the other alpha would’ve been a worthy fight if his size was anything to go by, but neither the broad alpha or Bahorel were anything compared to the bouncer who calmly kept them both apart. A half smirk played on his lips, as if he was waiting for either one of the alphas to lose their cool. Bossuet would’ve been happy he had clearly intercepted the situation were it not for the predatory gleam in his eyes. 

Realising it was a lost cause, the other alpha eventually backed down and stalked away. Bahorel gave a satisfied snort and turned to the bouncer offering his hand. “Thank you for stopping that asshole and helping our friend,” he murmured, meeting the bouncer’s black eyes. 

“Your welcome,” he answered with a voice as smooth as silk. He ran a hand through his greasy black hair and his lips sported a smile Bossuet could only describe as smug. He couldn’t place it but there was something about the alpha that made him feel uneasy. Grantaire gave out a little moan and the bouncer lifted his left eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. 

“You might want to get your friend home – he looks a bit out of it.” He gestured to Grantaire who was slumped down, head resting on the pavement. 

“We will,” Bossuet quickly interjected. “And thank you again…”

“Montparnasse.”

* * *  
“What the hell happened here!” Enjolras hissed as he helped Bossuet usher Grantaire into their living room. He wanted to yell. He really did. But even now, Enjolras was ever the considerable neighbour and not oblivious to the fact that it was three in the mourning. So instead he whisper-yelled with as much venom as he could put into his words. 

“It’s three in the morning and you bring him home like this!” Enjolras wildly gestured to Grantaire’s state. “He can’t even stand upright!”

“Enjolras calm down,” Bossuet tried to reason. “He’s –”

“Appolllooo!” Grantaire cooed and reached out to Enjolras who swatted his hand away. 

“What are you doing?” Enjolras hissed.

“Grantaire at your service, oh mighty Apollo,” Grantaire slurred and gave a mocking bow. 

The alpha set his mouth in a firm line. “Don’t call me that. My name is Enjolras.”

“I’ll stick with Apollo. The other one is too hard to pronounce.” Grantaire said teasingly. Or at least Enjolras thought he meant to. 

“Go to bed Grantaire,” Enjolras replied icily, realising there’s no use arguing with a drunk. He did not expect the omega’s emboldened reply.

“Will you join me?”

* * *  
By the look Enjolras returned him and the sharp intake of breath, followed by a fake cough, Bossuet led out Grantaire was led to believe he had failed miserably. He couldn’t help it. Whenever Grantaire panicked he tended to make a fool out of himself. This was no exception. 

“Go to bed. You’re drunk Grantaire.”

Even in his drunken splendour Grantaire knew a dismissal when he heard one. So with a mock salute to hide the pain that was threatening to rip his chest apart he turned around and stumbled off to bed.  
After he managed to crawl under the covers he thought back to Enjolras’ face when he had led them in. Anger had flashed in his Apollo’s eyes and Grantaire couldn’t help but think that if he thought Enjolras was beautiful before it was nothing compared to his complexion when he was mad. It was at that moment, lying in bed half drunk, half asleep, that Grantaire decided that if he could never have this alpha’s love at least he could have his beautiful fury.


	4. The Musain

Grantaire made his way to the coffee shop he was supposed to meet Feuilly at. His neck was covered by a soft purple scarf and he was nursing a hell of a hangover. Beside him cars were rushing by; a steady heartbeat of the city he now lived in. 

When Grantaire had woken up that next morning it felt as if his head was going to explode. He had groaned, burying his face in the pillow. His mind had tried to supply him with images of the previous night but failing miserably until… Enjolras. Enjolras was mad at him. 

Oh.

OH.

Grantaire gave out something that sounded between a groan and a whine as he sped up his steps. He had asked Enjolras to share a bed with him. 

When he reached the opened doors of the Musain he took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of fresh bread and pastries. Stepping inside he noticed Feuilly sitting at the back waiving him over. 

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself!” Grantaire replied and was immediately scooped up in a crushing hug. “Bahorel is rubbing off on you,” he managed to choke out before Feuilly let go with an amused huff. 

“So,” Feuilly ventured after they sat down, pushing a butter croissant in front of Grantaire. “I should probably start by apologising for last night.” Grantaire just shrugged and started to eat. 

“No, I really should,” Feuilly continued tapping his fingers nervously on the table. “I didn’t mean to get so caught up in Bahorel. It was your first night out in a club in Paris and –”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Grantaire cut in, a soft knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He saw Feuilly flush and knew he had guessed right. 

The benefit of growing up in that old slum together was that Grantaire and Feuilly had an intimate understanding of what the other had went through and what they were like. For instance, Grantaire immediately picked up that regardless of all the insults and curses Feuilly spat at Bahorel, he was very much in love with him. Likewise, Feuilly knew that behind Grantaire’s cynicism he just wanted to be accepted and loved for who he was. No matter how many time Grantaire may mock or scorn those lovey-dovey couples, Feuilly knew he was secretly a romantic at heart and desired that which he believed he could never have.

“Shut up,” Feuilly spat, but his words held no venom in them. He smiled coyly and changed the subject.

“It’s smouldering in here! Take your scarf off.”

Before Grantaire could stop him, Feuilly ripped the scarf off revealing the red marks on his neck. When Feuilly froze, Grantaire took the opportunity to grab the scarf back and cover himself up again, making sure to shoot the alpha a furious look. 

“Oh,” Feuilly said quietly. “Was your alpha mad?” 

Grantaire couldn’t help the harsh laugh that escaped his chest. Mad? Enjolras was furious!

“Oh, you know. My alpha was absolutely delighted to see I was drunk out of my mind and marked by another dude,” Grantaire deadpanned. 

Feuilly groaned, having caught onto his friend’s sarcasm. “He can’t say shit though! What does he expect you to do if he barely even acknowledges your existence? You’re smart, talented, handsome –”  
Grantaire made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, but Feuilly ignored it.  
“brave, witty and any alpha would die to have you! Who does this stuck up ass think he is to believe himself superior to you. E will have so much to say on that…” Feuilly almost mumbled the last sentence as an afterthought to himself but Grantaire heard it.

“Who?”

Feuilly blinked. “Oh, the leader of our activist group. He takes omega rights very seriously and will take the shit out of anyone (alpha or beta) who thinks himself superior.”

“And this fearless leader you mention, is he an alpha?” At the look on Feuilly’s face Grantaire snorted. “How reassuring.”

The moment he said it he realised his mistake.

“So great to know you have faith in us,” Feuilly murmured and slung his bag over his shoulder, getting up to leave. 

“Feuilly, I didn’t…I mean…oh shit.” Grantaire ran his hand over his face and groaned. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not like that and probably neither is Bahorel.”

Feuilly hesitated before cursing and throwing his bag back down. “Look. I know a lot of alphas out there are domineering and disrespectful, but some of us are tired at being judged based on their behaviour. There are some of us who actually respect omegas and strive for equality and it will be nice if the people we are fighting for actually side with us and not against us.”

“I know, Feuilly. And I’m happy you and your friends stand up for us, but surely you can understand why I don’t have much faith that you’ll succeed.”

“You’ll see.”

While replying the last sentence Feuilly sat back crossing his arms with a small smirk on his face that Grantaire wondered at when suddenly they were interrupted by a mop of sandy blond hair in bright-patterned bohemian pants. 

“Jehan!” Feuilly exclaimed and swept the other boy into an embrace. “Love the outfit!”

“Thanks,” the new guy said with a light blush on his cheeks. “Who’s this?” he asked after noticing Grantaire’s presence. 

“Oh, Grantaire. We grew up together. I was just telling him about Les Amis de l’ABC.”

Grantaire noticed Jehan’s whole face lit up. “Oh, you should definitely come to the next meeting!” Jehan squeaked enthusiastically. “We could really use more omegas there.”

Usually Grantaire would scoff at a frail, beautiful omega inviting him somewhere; the gesture a reminder of all the times the popular, richer omegas in Grantaire’s school had picked on him and made him feel worthless. He was never the preferred small, frail, blond looking type – so typical of his secondary gender. In fact, some say he resembled a beta more in statue. So Grantaire had long ago learned to go with the taunts and disinterest many alphas showed in him. Of course it wasn’t just his looks. He wasn’t so naïve as to believe that. They were bad, but coupled with his lack of eloquence and money, as well as his drinking habits he soon scared away the only few alphas that showed any interest at all. Good, Grantaire thought. I don’t like them anyway.

But there was something about Jehan that was just so honest and open that Grantaire immediately felt drawn to him. And it wasn’t just his sweetness. There was something in his eyes that said ‘touch me without my consent and I’ll fuck you up’. Regardless of his small form he demanded respect, and Grantaire admired that. 

So instead of making an excuse he gave him a smile and said: “Sure, I’ll give it a shot.” 

He was met with a delighted squeak from Jehan, and when he dared a side glance at Feuilly, he looked smug. 

Jehan ended up joining them and Grantaire learned that he was a poet. And a good one too. They spend the larger part of the day just talking. Grantaire and Feuilly’s lunch turned into brunch with Jehan until, after hearing Grantaire was an artist, Jehan offered to show him one of the art schools in Paris. 

“I think they take omegas,” he said thoughtfully after Feuilly bid them farewell in front of the Musain. 

Grantaire didn’t have the heart to tell the poet that even if they did his alpha would probably never allow him to get an education. Instead he just followed the bubbling poet, wondering how Jehan was able to radiate so much excitement and joy. 

It was early evening when Grantaire walked up the steps to his alpha’s apartment. His head was still spinning, pleasantly occupied with Jehan’s contagious laughter and the beautiful art pieces he had seen on display in the foyer of the school. Jehan was right; they did take omegas, but because they were one of the only schools that did, it would cost a pretty penny to enrol. 

Obviously Grantaire didn’t have any money of his own and asking his husband to pay for it was a laughable idea to him. But the place was everything Grantaire had ever dreamed of. Would Enjolras really be annoyed with him if he just brought the subject up. It was certainly worth the risk. He didn’t know his alpha well enough to decide whether Enjolras would just calmly deny the request or lash out at him for trying to be independent. He certainly wouldn’t ever consider saying yes, would he?

These were the thoughts occupying Grantaire’s mind when he entered the apartment, immediately stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the look on his alpha’s face. Yeah. Nevermind.


	5. Misunderstandings

Enjolras was livid. “What do you mean they vetoed the omega education law again!” he growled over the receiver. 

He was met with a long sigh on the other end of the line and Combeferre’s calm voice: “Look Enjolras. The senate keeps blocking it. And they will continue to do so.”

“Well then we protest! Riot! Whatever it takes! We’ll annoy them until they can’t ignore us!” Enjolras practically yelled. 

“If we want to change things we’ll have to do it from the inside,” came Combeferre’s voice of reason. “Just give general Lamarque more time to make allies.”

“We don’t have time, ‘ferre.” Enjolras reasoned.

“I beg to differ. We do. Things cannot happen overnight Enjolras. I tell you what. Let’s deal with it at tomorrow’s meeting. Together.”

Enjolras raked a shaky hand through his blond curls. “Okay.”  
The leader of The Friends of the ABC was blessed with a lot of good qualities, but patience wasn’t one of them. He hung up the phone feeling annoyed and turned to start pacing the floor again when he heard a key turn and the door to his apartment open to reveal a half-smiling Grantaire.

Grantaire. Right. They had to talk. 

Enjolras’ heart sank at the sight of Grantaire’s smile dropping completely from his face and his whole body tensing up. He was scared, Enjolras’ mind supplied unhelpfully. It is true that in the last two weeks Grantaire has become less jumpy in his presence, but they were far from relaxed when together. And Enjolras had no idea how to change that.

At first he tried googling, but when he typed in ‘how to calm your distressed omega’ and was supplied with the typical, useless, sexists answers he opted to call Combeferre instead who’s helpful reply “it’s individual; you’ll soon figure out what your husband prefers.” wasn’t really helpful at all. 

So now here he was, completely out of his depth on how to comfort Grantaire. He opted for casual conversation. 

“You were out all day.”

The moment he said it he slightly cringed at how harsh his voice came out – still baring the anger and frustration of his conversation with Combeferre. By Grantaire’s reaction, a flinch, it was clear he had picked up on it.

“I’ll make us some pasta,” Enjolras tried to amend and went into the kitchen. 

Provide for your mate. It was the general belief that for an omega to feel save and secure an alpha had to provide for them and protect them. Enjolras always rolled his eyes at the primitivity and stereotypical nature of it. What did they think? An omega can’t provide and protect themselves? Let’s be honest, it was just another way for alphas to suppress their omega counterparts. Society dictating how they should behave. 

However, at this moment Enjolras was desperate. Maybe Grantaire would relax and warm up to him faster if he displayed typical alpha behaviour. The problem was Enjolras had no idea how to do that. He’d never had a relationship before, having spent all his time devoted to the Cause. 

Provide. Enjolras kept playing the word over and over in his head. Well, if he cooked and fed Grantaire that would count as providing, wouldn’t it? 

There was only one problem. He was useless in a kitchen. For the last two weeks Enjolras had been working late at the law firm and he rarely made it home in time for dinner. And even then he’d just bring take away. 

Well, Enjolras reasoned when he put the pot on the stove, pasta it is. He could make pasta. He could prove to Grantaire he was not a useless alpha.

* * *  
Inside the living room Grantaire was freaking out. Enjolras’ words rang in his ears. It was impossible to miss the implication behind them. 

‘You were out all day.’ 

Grantaire should’ve been home, like a good omega. He should have asked Enjolras before he went out and met with his friends. Another alpha, to top it off. Feuilly wasn’t interested in him and he knew it, but Enjolras didn’t. He did hug Feuilly goodbye. Was his scent somehow on him?

Grantaire lifted his shirt and sniffed. He couldn’t smell anything, but alphas had a much sharper sense of smell. At the thought of Enjolras smelling Feuilly’s sense Grantaire coiled in on himself. He should have stayed home. He should have cooked dinner for Enjolras!

The mere fact that Enjolras was in the kitchen at the moment cooking dinner himself made Grantaire suppress a shiver. The implication behind his last sentence was obvious. ‘I’ll make us some pasta myself because you failed to do even the simplest of duties expected of you.’ 

It was the omega’s job to make sure his alpha had a warm meal waiting for him after a hard day’s work. And Grantaire could cook. That was the only thing expected of him that he was generally good at and enjoyed doing. The problem was that Enjolras was never home! How was he supposed to know that his alpha would choose tonight of all the nights to come home before dark and expect a homecooked meal. 

If Grantaire wasn’t so scared out of his wits, he might have taken the time to be mad. As it was, he was just terrified. Would Enjolras punish him? Beat him? Yell at him? Remembering last night, the last option didn’t seem so bad. He would at least be able to behold Enjolras’ riotous fury again. 

By the time Enjolras came out with two plates of pasta, Grantaire was a trembling mess. He followed his husband to the couch and excepted the plate handed to him without meeting Enjolras’ eyes.   
He was just about to take his first bite when his heart sank at Enjolras’ next words.

“We need to talk about last night.”

* * *  
While stirring the pasta Enjolras had come to the conclusion that the reason Grantaire was so stiff tonight was probably about what had occurred the previous evening. Enjolras did go on one of his famous rants at the sight of his husband, and after Bossuet had explained what had happened Enjolras felt bad for yelling at Grantaire the way he did. 

The question was whether he even remembered it at all. He was extremely drunk. Nonetheless, Enjolras felt that it would be easiest to apologise and establish boundaries where clubbing and drinking were concerned.

Of course Enjolras would never admit it, but something akin to jealousy burned when he had smelled the scent of alpha on Grantaire last night. The sight of the hickies on his neck made Enjolras’ blood boil, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way. Grantaire was not his property – no matter what society believed. They were not in love and he certainly has no right to tell Grantaire that he may not give himself freely to any other person he wished to – be it alpha, beta or omega.

Enjolras shook his head to clear it and cleared his throat. “We need to talk about last night.”

He waited for Grantaire to say something, but when he just lowered his head Enjolras forged on.

“I understand that you wish to go out with your friends and I have no problem with that, however coming home at three in the morning, drunk, was unacceptable.”  
Here Enjolras paused and pushed a small square box towards Grantaire.

“I bought you a cell phone, with which you can call me any time. I expect you to answer it when I call and would appreciate you calling me if you ever find yourself running late for some reason. Texting me will also work.”

Enjolras observed Grantaire, trying to read his expression. He thought Grantaire would be happy about the phone. Instead, he saw that his husband looked rather shocked and confused. 

Finally, after what felt like ages, Grantaire spoke for the first time that night.

“So, you don’t mind me going out with my friends?”

Taken aback by the question Enjolras stumbled “I…uhm... no. Of course not. So long as you don’t drink so much. It’s not healthy.”

Enjolras wrinkled his nose in distain. 

“I just care about your safety.”

Grantaire was quiet while both ate their dinner. Then, almost in a whisper, Enjolras heard him say “Thank you.”

Their eyes met for a second and Enjolras made an effort to give him a small smile before saying: “You’re welcome.”


	6. What's the Worst That Could Happen?

The next morning Enjolras got up early, determined to get his things in order for the meeting tonight. He was on his way out of the apartment when he noticed Grantaire’s sketchpad near the window sill. Something he read while Googling made him pause and consider. Apparently one of the things all the numerous websites had in common was that scent marking your omega’s property would help him warm up to you. 

Personally Enjolras would find it annoying if he came home and found all his stuff reeking of a different scent, but having no prior experience with omegas he figured this one was the least offensive of all the things he had read. 

Grantaire had responded so well to him making dinner that Enjolras figured it was worth the try. He quickly walked over to the book, picked it up and turned it around in his hands making sure his wrists swiped over the leather cover a few times. When he was satisfied with it, he placed it back on the table and went to work.

The law firm where he worked was known for helping those clients that the other, more prestige law firms didn’t want; in other words they took a lot of omega cases. They often dealt with domestic abuse, custody issues, and unfair layoffs. 

Even though the law stated that omegas were allowed to work, many firms still didn’t hire them due to their lack of qualifications. This was one of the reasons Enjolras was so upset that the senate once again vetoed their request to change the current education system. As it was, omegas were not allowed into university and neither was it frowned upon if they didn’t finish high school. 

Enjolras let his thoughts run to Grantaire. What sort of education did he have? Surely if he knew Bossuet then they at least went to primary school together; maybe even high school. Enjolras could only hope. 

* * *  
The first thing Grantaire did when he woke up was text Bossuet. Enjolras had the foresight to have already entered his and Bossuet’s numbers. It was something Grantaire was silently grateful for.  
He was still giddy upon getting a phone. He’d always wanted one, but his parents couldn’t afford to buy him one. Now here he was, holding a fancy one that must have cost Enjolras a pretty penny. 

R: Guess what I got?

Bossuet’s reply came within minutes.

B: He gave it to you!! Welcome to the world of the digital generation, my friend. :P  
B: How does it feel?

R: Strange. I can’t type as fast as you yet. Haha

B: Practise makes perfect.   
B: Btw do you have Feuilly’s number?

R: No just yours, Enjolras’s and some guy named Combeferre’s. 

B: Okay hold on a sec…

Grantaire smiled at the screen. It was strange how much more freedom having a phone gave him. He was able to talk to his friends anytime he wanted to and he didn’t have to worry that he would be displeasing Enjolras by doing it because he gave him the phone! 

R: Hey! Guess who FINALLY got a phone?! – R

F: Grand R baby! It’s about time!!

Grantaire knew he had a huge smile plastered on his face. He was just so happy!

F: I guess I take it back. Your alpha isn’t a complete prick if he gave you a phone.

Feuilly’s text was met by a snort from Grantaire. Buying him gifts was not going to make him like some stuck-up alpha. What was was the fact that Enjolras allowed him to contact and keep meeting with his friends. Based on the little time Grantaire spent with Enjolras he understood that it wasn’t a courting gift, but rather a practical solution to the problem – which according to Enjolras now ceased to be a problem. It was that, and that alone, that warmed his heart.

Grantaire shuffled to the living room, still in his pyjamas. Enjolras would be at work already and Grantaire wanted more than anything to just relax and spend the day working on his latest sketch. When he picked up his sketchpad and moved to sit on the chair outlooking the city he frowned. Something was off. 

Cautiously he lifted the pad to his nose and sniffed. He almost dropped his sketchpad. It smelled like Enjolras! Undeniably like Enjolras and without a second sniff Grantaire could tell that his alpha had scent marked it. Something akin to annoyance rose within him. 

What the hell!

Picking up his phone instead he started typing furiously.

R: Don’t hold on to that. I just realised he scent marked my sketchpad!

F: What??

R: The nerve!   
R: What does he think!   
R: Simply because he bought me something he now controls me?!   
R: I swear if he looked at my sketches…

An unpleasant feeling was building at the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. Had Enjolras looked at his work? He prayed he didn’t. It was the most intimate part of himself. Enjolras using him for sex. Okay. Enjolras looking through the sketches displaying his soul. Not so much.   
Grantaire was brought back out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing.

F: I take it back. What an asshole. 

Whether it was the anger of his current situation causing him to rebel or the fear of eventually submitting to this alpha dictating his next decision he wasn’t sure, but he quickly texted back.

R: When did you say that meeting was again?

Feuilly’s reply was immediate.

F: Tonight at 8. Backroom of the Musain.   
F: Glad you’re fighting back R.

Grantaire huffed. He was not sure he wanted to fight. But he really needed to release the tension building up inside of him. So before he could loose his courage he quickly send Enjolras a text saying he’s going out with some friends tonight and not to wait up. 

Grantaire would never call himself an activist. And yet he tried to reason with himself the rest of the day whether he was actively provoking the anger of his alpha. He’d never told Enjolras where he was going, but he was sure he wouldn’t approve. Omega rights? Didn’t that go against everything Enjolras’ family stood for? 

And yet what Enjolras didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, the other end of Grantaire’s brain argued. Talking, drinking, meeting new friends. What’s the worst that could happen? 

* * *

“You did what?!” 

Courfeyrac was laughing hysterically, while Combeferre simply gave his friend a pitied look.

Enjolras dropped his head with a thump on his desk and murmured something.

“What? I didn’t quite catch that?” Courfeyrac teased. 

Enjolras lifted his head, narrowed his eyes and grumbled “I said shut up”, before hiding his face in his arms again.

He tried to look pissed, but by Courf’s laugh he knew he probably resembled something like a pouting puppy more. He was comforted by Combeferre suddenly rubbing circles on his back to relax him.   
With a sigh he lifted his head again. He knew Combeferre must have given Courf The Look because he had stopped mocking him, even if a ridiculous smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Help. How do I fix this?” Enjolras’ voice was so calm that were it not for the panic in his eyes betraying his true feelings, no one would expect how much being married to Grantaire really affected him.

“I don’t know Enjy,” Courf smirked, “you did literally just scent mark this poor dude’s stuff. I’m not even sure your pretty face and sexy ass could get you out of this one.” 

When Combeferre playfully nudged his mate Enjolras just glared at both of them. 

“If neither of you is going to take this seriously –”

“Okay. We’ll stop.” Combeferre cut his friend off. 

Enjolras has known Combeferre since he was fourteen. He was his rock and now he needed him more than ever. Courf has been his other best friend since he started university and when Courf and Ferre bonded Enjolras couldn’t have been happier. Now however, he was annoyed with both of them.

“Look. Grantaire is Bossuet’s friend and I really don’t want him to be unhappy. He keeps tensing up whenever I come into a room. He hardly says two words to me when we are together. I don’t know what to do with him and I really don’t have time to be worrying over some panicked omega right now. I just got this really heavy case that is taking all of my time and self-restrain, and distractions need to be avoided at all costs.”

“And you see Grantaire as a distraction. Why?” Combeferre pushed his glasses up.

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply but paused. Why was he so worried about Grantaire. Sure, he felt responsible for him, but Enjolras felt responsible for all of his friends. And yet he never constantly fret over them. What was it about Grantaire?

“I think you’re attracted to him,” Courfeyrac piped up. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Enjolras shot back.

“May I ask why you haven’t bonded with him yet?” Combeferre dared.

“I didn’t want to force him into anything. I want him to get to know me first and make the decision of whether he wishes to bond with me himself.” If there was something Enjolras loved very much, it was the concept of consent. He would never take that away from anyone; especially not his future mate. 

Combeferre hummed and for the first time Courfeyrac spoke seriously.

“Look Enjolras, I don’t know this dude and what you told me I can only gather that he must be scared out of his wits to be sold off to some unknown alpha who might or might not mistreat him. As an omega I can tell you the fact that you didn’t bond with him might be one of the reasons he’s so scared.”

“But wouldn’t he appreciate the freedom and the fact that I’m not just using him?”

“First of all, I know you and you’ll never ‘use him’. Second of all, for many omegas a bond means security. Right now anyone can claim him. And if he expected you to claim him and you didn’t he might feel unwanted and be scared that he’s not good enough.”

Enjolras frowned. He’d never thought about it that way. Maybe he’ll talk to Grantaire tonight about it. Explain his behaviour. 

“I’ll talk to him,” is all he said to his friends before Valjean, their boss, came through the door.

“Enjolras I need to see you about your case.”

Enjolras immediately got up and followed Valjean out. Whatever it was, his boss looked tired, which meant that it couldn’t be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you for reading this fic and for those of you who left kudos I really appreciate it and I'm VERY happy that you liked it!
> 
> Writing a clueless, unsure Enjolras is so much fun because he's usually so well put together. But don't worry, he learns quickly. XD  
> I'm having a lot of fun writing this piece! So fingers crossed you all like where it's heading!


	7. Some Say Love is a River That Drowns the Tender Reed

Grantaire took one last big breath before opening the door and strolling into the Musain. As he scanned the room for a familiar face he couldn’t help but to be nervous. What if Feuilly was wrong and his friends didn’t like him? What if somehow an omega trying to join them pissed them off?

Grantaire had learned really early on in his life how to deal with alphas: don’t challenge their authority and don’t insult them. If only he was actually good at following his own advice and keeping his mouth shut. As it is, he had gotten quite the reputation for being a mouthy omega, but even Grantaire had never gone so far as to directly stand up against everything the alpha dominated system stood for. That was looking for trouble. 

But Jehan said these alphas were different. He said they wanted more omegas here, so just maybe they wouldn’t mind Grantaire speaking his mind for once. Then again, he knew that was just wishful thinking and was willing to bet that before the night was through he would be kicked out of the meeting.   
He soon saw a mob of blond hair that could only be Jehan’s and sure enough, at the back sat Jehan, Feuilly, Bahorel and a nervous looking guy wiping the table with a napkin. As soon as Jehan saw him his face lit up and he jumped up to greet Grantaire.

“R! You came!” Jehan exclaimed excitedly. 

“Hey Jehan,” was all Grantaire managed before he was ushered onto the bench and found himself sitting at a table with three alphas.  
Feuilly gave Grantaire a warm smile and Bahorel leaned over the table to fist-bump him as a greeting. 

“I’m really glad you made it, ‘taire.” 

Already Grantaire felt more at ease. So much, that he turned to the other alpha and extended his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Grantaire, but all my friends call me R.”

“Joly,” the alpha answered and shook his hand in a firm grip. “So, you’re Bossuet’s friend?”

Grantaire laughed. “So it would seem. I hope he hasn’t given you too many false expectations about me.”

Now it was Joly’s turn to smile. “I believe he said something along the lines of ‘R is the most dedicated cynical bastard that I ever had the misfortune of meeting but he’s also the bravest and most trusting friend that I’ve ever had.’ Does that answer your question?”

“Well he got cynical bastard right,” Grantaire smirked. “Where is Bossuet anyway?”

“Oh, he’s caught a cold so Musichetta is looking after him. Doctor’s order,” Feuilly winked at Joly. 

“Oh!” Grantaire exclaimed finally having caught on. “You’re Bossuet’s doctor-boyfriend?”

“That I am.”

“Well he bloody needs it.” Grantaire murmured, which caused the whole table to snicker. 

Grantaire was surprised at how much he felt at ease around these people. He’d always avoided having friends that were alphas, apart from Feuilly, but as the conversation around him continued he couldn’t really hide his happiness at having made friends so quickly. Jehan seemed to notice and gave him a knowing smile. Maybe he was right. Maybe the rest of the group would also be this nice. 

“We should probably get going to the backroom for the meeting,” Bahorel interrupted their lively discussion about what the best romance novel was. 

“Right, Enjy gets really annoyed if people come late.” Jehan half said in Grantaire’s direction. Enjy. That must be their famous activist leader. Grantaire might have been hopeful if the leader of the omega rights activist group wasn’t an alpha. What did that prove? He was probably just a pretentious bastard that used it as an excuse to get into omegas’ pants.   
Grantaire said as much, which made Jehan gasp, Bahorel release a deep laugh and Joly stop in his tracks with a confused look on his face.

“I bet you before the night is over you’ll be taking that back,” Feuilly said with a knowing smirk. “Trust me E is the most awkwardly social person you’ll ever meet. Plus I’ve never even seen him with a boyfriend so you’re safe.” 

“I’m willing to bet you haven’t met another alpha quite as intense as him before though. So be warned,” Bahorel added.

“Grantaire…” Joly said hesitatingly, still with a frown clouding his face. “Who invited you here tonight?” 

“I did!” Jehan perked up.

Everyone had stopped walking by now and was just staring at Joly who it seemed was trying really hard to figure something out.

“I told him about the group,” Feuilly added, now a bit softer and more hesitant. 

Joly fixed his eyes on Feuilly for a moment before turning them back on Grantaire. 

“Did you tell your husband you’re going to attend one of our meetings?” 

Grantaire snorted.

“This is really none of your business,” Grantaire growled suddenly annoyed with Joly. He couldn’t blame Bossuet for telling Joly about Grantaire’s marriage, but he’d hope Joly would have the decency to be on his side instead of his alpha’s. Apparently not.

He was taken from that train of thought when Feuilly snorted. “Oh please, R’s husband can go hang himself.”

Now it was Joly’s turn to laugh, sudden realisation dawning. “You’re joking right?” The question was meant for Feuilly who now looked as confused as Grantaire felt. 

“ Joly…” Feuilly started off questioningly but was cut of by the man himself muttering “This is going to be priceless” before opening the backdoor and walking in. 

Grantaire sent his other friends a confused look before shrugging and following Joly in. 

* * *  
Enjolras was running late. He would be annoyed at that fact were it not for the more pressing matter that it was raining and his red coat was getting soaked through. As always, he had been in such a haste this morning that he had forgotten to take an umbrella. Now he was running, late for a meeting for the first time in two years, after having to work late on this infuriating case Valjean had given him.  
Between planning the meeting and the court case Enjolras shouldn’t have had time to think about his marriage, however the omega at home kept haunting his thoughts all day. It was all Bossuet’s fault really. 

If Enjolras’ parents had come to him with the prospect of getting an omega gifted to him because the man’s family couldn’t pay their debt Enjolras would have said no straight away. His family probably would have had to make another plan, like sell the omega to the highest bidder in order to get back their money. In that case Enjolras wouldn’t have been part of the corrupt system, but the omega would have suffered regardless. 

Instead, Bossuet had cornered Enjolras after one of the meetings and explained to him that he knew about the debt and furthermore he knew the family who owed it. More importantly, the omega was a friend of his that he’d known since he was a kid. 

That night he had begged Enjolras not to let him get sold off, but to accept the offer to marry him instead; even if it went against everything Les Amis stood for. Enjolras had reluctantly agreed, deciding that being married to him could not be worse than getting sold off to some brute of an alpha – because honestly, no respectful alpha would buy an omega under such circumstances. So Enjolras had agreed to marry him. 

He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe that was it. For once Enjolras didn’t really think it through. He had no idea how to handle an omega and Grantaire seemed to get more distant every day. Combeferre’s words kept echoing in Enjolras’ head urging him to just sit down and talk to his husband. But somehow that was easier said than done. Enjolras had never felt so insecure around a guy before and he wasn’t really sure what exactly that meant. 

A part of him longed to tell his friends and introduce Grantaire to them. They might be able to help calm him down. The problem was that apart from Bossuet and Combeferre – which naturally included Joly and Courfeyrac – nobody else knew about the circumstances and Enjolras felt rather embarrassed to bring it up. Surely his friends would understand he didn’t do it for his own pleasure? He was simply helping a friend. 

* * *  
Inside the backroom Grantaire was met with three more members of the group. A bonded alpha and omega pair, who looked sickeningly happy together, stood at the front and Grantaire couldn’t help but wish he was that lucky. He would’ve given the world to have Enjolras look at him the way the alpha – Combeferre – looked at his mate. 

“What did we miss?” Bahorel greeted. 

Grantaire watched in silence as everyone greeted each other, all receiving a hug from the brunet and a pad on the back from his alpha with glasses. A skinny looking beta with freckles, who had also been in the room when Grantaire came in, was hugging everyone hello. 

Finally the omega - Courfeyrac - Grantaire had heard Jehan call him, came to a stop in front of Grantaire with a huge smile on his face. 

“You’re new,” he grinned. 

“This is R. We grew up in the same neighbourhood.” Feuilly immediately introduced Grantaire.

“Courf,” the omega smiled and then added “I’m going to hug you hello now.” And he proceeded to do just that. Grantaire would’ve been uncomfortable were Courfeyrac’s energy not so addictive. Instead he laughed and simply hugged him back. 

Out of the corner of his eye he observed Joly watching the whole exchange with light amusement. Grantaire tried not to dwell to much on what the doctor did.

Suddenly Bahorel piped up: “Where’s our fierce leader in red?”

“Running late,” Combeferre replied. “I’ll start the meeting and then when he gets here he can take over.” He then turned to Grantaire. “A friend of Feuilly’s is a friend of ours. You are very welcome here R.”

Grantaire blushed lightly under the gaze of the alpha but still managed to nod. He was not used to so much warmth and pondered on it for the next few minutes while Combeferre started the meeting. Everyone here seemed to be kind people and just for a moment Grantaire let himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, he had found a little safe haven for himself. 

Of course that was shattered to pieces the next moment when the door burst open and a familiar head covered with golden locks appeared. Grantaire felt his heart stop. It couldn’t be. There was no way his husband could have possibly found out he was here…unless…Joly. He must’ve called him.

But rather than berating Grantaire for being there Enjolras stormed right past him without even sparing him a glance. He was beautiful like this: like a wild current rushing by. If Grantaire hadn’t already been sitting down he’s sure Enjolras’ pheromones would have knocked him straight off his feet. 

It filled the room, anger and annoyance radiating off of him, while he quickly unpacked his notes from his now wet briefcase. A final shake of his dripping hair and a mumbled apology later he finally looked up – locking eyes straight with Grantaire’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Sorry for the long wait!   
> Thank you so much for sticking with me and reading this fic!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this new chapter and have a great day! <3


	8. Some say love is a razor that leads the soul to bleed

“Enjolras?” 

It was Combeferre’s calm voice that broke Enjolras’ reverie. He turned his attention to his friend, briefly wondering if Combeferre was behind Grantaire’s appearance tonight but when he looked at him he only saw confusion on his face. Not Combeferre then.

Everyone was staring at Enjolras now, sensing something was wrong but unsure how to act. Enjolras turned his attention back to Grantaire who sat frozen. Feuilly sat next to him frowning, having obviously noticed Grantaire’s panic evident in his scent. 

Thankfully Combeferre stepped in.  
“You must wonder who our newest member is,” he stated, turning all eyes on him. “This is R. He is a friend of Feuilly’s.” 

Grantaire paled visibly at that and Enjolras switched his eyes to Feuilly who seemed alarmed by Grantaire’s obvious discomfort. The other Amis were starting to sense it too. 

“Oh for crying it out loud, Enjy, you’re scaring him!” This was Courfeyrac who realising his fellow omega was in distress tried to help. “Sorry,” Courfeyrac now turned to Grantaire. “Enjolras can be pretty socially awkward sometimes, but I swear his death glare is worse than his bite.” 

It seemed to work, because suddenly Enjolras was brought back to the fact that they were in fact in the Musain holding a meeting. At home Grantaire may be his husband, but out here he was a valuable ally who had the nerve to actually show up. Not many omegas did that and for the first time Enjolras looked at Grantaire with something akin to awe. 

Well then. He cleared his throat and nodded his head at his still immobile husband. 

“Welcome.”

He looked down at his notes fully prepared to start the meeting when he realised just what he was going to talk about tonight. He sighed, shot a quick look that was meant to be apologetic to Grantaire, and began.

“As you all know we have been discussing the issue of omegas being treated like a means of property: As the law stands it is perfectly fine for alphas to buy, trade or sell their omegan children. Since an omega must always be under the care of an alpha because they are seen as physically inferior and unable to fend for themselves in this world – a fact that couldn’t be further from the truth and a law that is far outdated – many parents take advantage of their children by using them as an investment by marrying them off to a rich alpha or some times simply selling them to the highest bidder. In some rare cases omegas are also used as a way to clear a debt. In these cases the omega has no voice or power to dictate what happens to them. This of course is what we strive to change. They need a voice! And we can be that voice!”

* * *

E. Enjy. Enjolras.  
Enjolras was the fierce leader in red. He was not here to berate Grantaire for coming to a meeting or for being a horrible husband. He was here because he was the fuel behind Les Amis de l’ABC. 

For a brief moment Grantaire entertained the idea that this was all just a facade, but the longer Enjolras talked the sooner Grantaire realised that he believed every word out of his Apollo’s mouth. The fire in his eyes were back, just like the first night he lectured Grantaire when he had come home drunk. 

And honestly, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that these men would never be friends with Enjolras if he wasn’t truly a good man. He had not forgotten how highly Feuilly and Jehan had spoken of him. The answer was simple then: the problem wasn’t Enjolras, it was Grantaire. 

Of course an alpha as intelligent and beautiful would never want a mate like him. What was a drunk cynic good for? Enjolras had probably had far more attractive and eager omegas in his bed. Why would he even want to touch him. Enjolras was passionate and pure and Grantaire, well he was sarcastic and useless. No wonder his husband didn’t even bother.

“I’m sure R has an opinion on that.”

On hearing his name Grantaire snapped back to reality. He looked at Jehan who had spoken for guidance. “Right R? You told us you were married to pay off your dad’s dept.”

Oh. Yes. Well fuck.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Feuilly whispered next to him. “Just know we won’t judge you and we’re here for you when you need us.”

Grantaire turned, risking a glance at Enjolras who suddenly found the table in front of him very interesting. He sighed. And well because he’s a little shit he decided to just role with it. 

“Umm, yeah. I got married a while back to the son of the guy who my dad owed a lot of money to.” He received some reassuring nods and pitying looks before he added. “But the son is really hot so I got that going for me.” He ended the last line with a wink, not being able to handle the sombre mood any longer. 

“So you agree with the fact that there should be a law against that?” Combeferre asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he spoke. 

“What? No!” Grantaire quickly replied startling everyone, including Enjolras. “I mean it sucks yes, sure. But if I wasn’t married off my dad would have gone to jail. My family would have lost everything. Shit, they might have even been homeless now.”

“So you’re saying the fact that omegas are treated like property instead of humans is okay because the end somehow justifies the means?” Enjolras voice was business like, but there was an edge to it. Grantaire would later learn that voice meant Enjolras was gearing up for a fight. 

“No. Of course it’s wrong, but given the choice I’m sure omegas will always choose to protect their families instead of dreaming about the perfect future where their alpha is not a pretentious prick. I mean face it. We were made for breeding and nesting. Our whole biology is designed around it, so why not take advantage of that fact and be good for something. If the fact that I got sold prevented my family from starving then I’m fine with it.”

“How can you think so little of yourself? Don’t you realise that you’re so much more than just a breeding stock? You’re simply believing what society has been preaching to you! Omegas in marriages like that are treated like dirt! They’re –”

“And you think making it illegal to marry omegas off for money is going to change that, do you? Well I don’t know in what world you’re living, but in my world omegas are treated like dirt even if they enter a marriage under normal circumstances. That’s just how it is. And what you’re proposing is taking away the one thing that make us of any value. If our parents can’t make a profit from having an omega as a child why keep it? Omegas rarely find a proper job because we’re not allowed into university and even if we were many employers prefer hiring betas or alphas. You can’t change society, Enjolras. People are always going to be assholes. The sooner you accept it, the easier your life will be.”

Perhaps Grantaire should not have challenged Enjolras so readily in front of his friends but honestly he couldn’t care less about his husband’s bruised ego right now. What Enjolras was saying was just so…wrong…so… naïve. 

“We can change society! We are more than just our natures! It’s people like you that believe in nothing that are part of the problem!”

Enjolras was mad now and Grantaire could clearly see it. Perhaps if Enjolras was not so riled up he would’ve seen that Grantaire actually made a valid point by stating that the education system was a better place to start change, but as it was he didn’t think twice before adding “The last thing we have time for is some ramblings of a drunken cynic. Maybe you should try contributing again when you’re sober.”  
Grantaire was so taken aback by Enjolras’ accusation that it rendered him speechless. Sure he had drunken some wine but he was far from drunk and Enjolras knew that. It was a cheep shot even for him. But one he couldn’t deny, so instead he just lifted the bottle in mock salute before taking a swig and sitting down. 

If Grantaire had payed more attention to the Amis he would have notice Joly, Courfeyrac and Combeferre typing furiously on their phones throughout the whole argument and Feuilly giving Enjolras a death stare at the end. Instead he just dedicated himself to drinking, fixed on making sure he didn’t remember the rest of the night. 

* * *

[Joly created group ‘This is better than an opera’ and added Boss, Ferre and Courf]

Joly: Are you guys seeing this! 

Boss: Seeing as I’m not even there no

Joly: Grantaire’s at the meeting and Enjolras just came in. Now they’re in this really weird staring contest of who’ll freak out first. 

Boss: What?!!

Courf: You mean R.  
Courf: Haha  
Courf: Grantaire is Enjolras’s hubby

Joly: …

Courf: Wait  
Courf: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!

Joly: Grand R…

Ferre: Well that explains a lot. 

Boss: How am I missing this!!! What’s happening?

Joly: Well E started the meeting but R’s still pretty frozen.

Courf: And E’s SUPER uncomfortable!

Joly: Oh shit

Boss: What?!

Joly: Feu just brought up R’s marriage

Courf: guys…did R just flirt with Enjy

Joly: I’m not seeing this.

Boss: What he say?

Courf: he called him HOT!!!!!!  
Courf: And now Enjy’s blushing!!!!

Ferre: Courf stop squirming. Jehan is looking at you weirdly.  
Ferre: Great. Now he’s typing.

Boss: Idc. What’s going on with the love birds?

Joly: It’s not good. They’re arguing.

Boss: seriously?  
Boss: Wait is R drunk?

Joly: I don’t think so. 

Boss: What then?!

Ferre: I believe it has something to do with Grantaire’s skills in shooting holes in E’s arguments and Enjolras’s inability to accept he was wrong. 

[Courf added Jehan to the group]

FlowerBoy: What’re yall typing about so seriously?  
FlowerBoy: Is it about the new guy?  
FlowerBoy: Or rather is it about E’s obvious crush on said new guy?

Joly: Actually about the fact that they’re married but you were close.

FlowerBoy: WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!

Courf: Yup. I also just found out.  
Courf: ANYWAAAAY  
Courf: We should totally place bets about when they’ll mate

FlowerBoy: I HAVE SOOOO MANY QUESTIONS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW R HAS BEEN PINING! 

Courf: Okay. First of all ALL CAPS IS MY THING!!  
Courf: second of all all we’ve been hearing is how annoying R is and how much E wants to bang him!

Ferre: COURF!

Courf: Okay not in that many words BUT IT WAS IMPLIED IN THE SUBTEXT

FlowerBoy: Well R told us he definitely wants to get laid and not even in subtext.

Boss: yeah R doesn’t really have a filter

Joly: bang? Who says bang nowadays

Courf: Really… the only thing you got out of that conversation was the word ‘bang’

Joly: ??

Ferre: He has a point.

Courf: REALLY COMBEFERRE?! REALLY?

FlowerBoy: Um Guys… this is getting ugly

Ferre: If we’re still placing bets I bet E won’t get laid in a very long time after that comment.

Boss: Now what happened?

Joly: E just called R a drunk and told him to shut up and “try contributing again when he’s sober”.

Boss: Damn

Courf: Yup. That was brutal.  
Courf: Oh shit now he’s staring at us.  
Courf: EVERYBODY OFF THEIR PHONES!!! NOW!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos you guys leave! <3  
> I really appreciate it!!!
> 
> I know this chapter was a bit sad but I promise there will be fluff (and COMMUNICATION bc damnit boys!!) in the next one!
> 
> PS since I'm naming my chapters after the lyrics of The Rose some of you might guess what's coming in the next two chapters ;p


	9. It's the Heart Afraid of Breaking

It was the end of the meeting and Grantaire was lying with his head on the table. So much for making new friends and not getting drunk. He was contemplating how he’d wake up the next morning with a hell of a hangover when he felt someone sit next to him and this person rubbing small comforting circles on his back. He glanced up. 

Courfeyrac.

Grantaire couldn’t help smiling. He’s known Courf for less than a day and already he loves him. He’s such a bundle of energy, but more importantly even Grantaire in all his cynicism could see Courfeyrac had a heart of gold. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

“Tired,” Grantaire mumbled. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Enjolras watching them. He was too drunk to care.

Suddenly he was aware of Jehan sitting down on his other side and smiling.

“We have a favour to ask,” Courfeyrac went on gently. “We need posters for a rally and Jehan says you’re very talented.”

“I told him about your sketches,” Jehan added. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Grantaire made a noise in the negative. 

“Good,” Courfeyrac went on. “Because we were hoping you’d like to design us one.”

Grantaire was about to go on one of his rants about how useless his art was, but one look at Courfeyrac’s pleading eyes stopped him. Grantaire learned a valuable lesson that day: It’s impossible to say no to Courfeyrac. 

So instead he allowed Jehan to feed him water until he was sober enough to sit up straight. He cooed Courfeyrac into giving him a piece of paper and a pen and began sketching. It really wasn’t some of his best work but seeing as how he was drunk and sketching with a pen, Grantaire felt it was pretty good. 

He listened to Jehan telling him the information he had to include on it and then simply filled up the rest with some doodling. He didn’t even notice the alpha leaning over his shoulder watching his hands glide over the page intently. Only once he finished and Jehan fussed over how great it was did he hear the familiar clearing of a throat behind him. 

He could see Enjolras was staring at it intensely, as if he could set the page aflame with a mere look. 

“Isn’t it great?” Courfeyrac beamed. Grantaire wished he didn’t ask Enjolras. Of course he would hate it. 

Their eyes met for a moment before Grantaire lowered his gaze, but Enjolras apparently wouldn’t have any of that.  
“Grantaire,” he said softly. So softly that Grantaire could hardly believe it was Enjolras speaking. He looked up and this time kept his alpha’s gaze. “It’s really good. You’re extremely talented.”  
It was so different from the harsh words spoken earlier and Grantaire wouldn’t have believed it was it not for the sincerity in Enjolras’ eyes. 

“You know,” Jehan said thoughfully. “There is this art school near where you live and they actually accept omegas.”

Grantaire was more awake now. He knew the school Jehan talked about. It was the one they went to together to look at. The one that was definitely too expensive. 

“What art school?” Enjolras sounded genuinely interested. 

After Jehan gave him the name Grantaire watched as Enjolras typed it into google search and read up about it. His heart was in his throat. 

Finally he looked up, searching Grantaire’s face for something. “You want to go there.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. All Grantaire could do was nod, wishing he wasn’t so drunk right now, or actually that he was more drunk, he hadn’t decided yet.  
Enjolras just gave a firm nod as if he found what he was looking for. “We’ll discuss this again when you’re sober tomorrow and if you still want to go then I’ll help you apply.”

Grantaire stared at him dumbstruck. “What?”

The frown on Enjolras’ face after that question was adorable. “What do you mean what?”

“I mean why would you pay for that? It’s a useless profession that takes up a lot of time so I won’t be able to run our household properly and it will generate no income in return.” Grantaire mumbled on.

“You love it don’t you? Well then that’s reason enough. And as for house work, we can figure a system out together. I’ll help around like I always do. I’m not expecting you to do all the work.”  
Grantaire had nothing left to say. 

“Okay.”

“Awww! See how easy it is when you two actually communicate!” Courfeyrac cooed. 

This only received an eye-roll from Enjolras, but Grantaire felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was going to art school. And Enjolras loved his sketch. He actually loved his sketch.

* * *  
The next morning Enjolras woke up to the smell of pancakes. Today was one of his rare days off and he was looking forward to lazing around his apartment. Contrary to popular belief Enjolras could actually be lazy if he wanted to. He signed and stretched himself before putting on sweatpants and going to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

On entering the kitchen, however, he was met with the very appealing image of Grantaire, shirtless, flipping pancakes. He was humming some upbeat song and looking way to good in Enjolras’ opinion for someone who should be nursing a bad hangover. 

Grantaire must have picked up on Enjolras’ scent because without turning around he said: “I hope you like pancakes.”

“What’s all this?” Enjolras yawned, adding “and yes. I love pancakes.”

Grantaire finally plated one and handed it over to his husband. “It’s to say sorry for being a dick last night and getting drunk. Again,” Grantaire said gesturing to Enjolras’ plate. He was smiling but by now Enjolras could see the nervousness behind that; the omega waiting for his alpha’s approval. Enjolras indulged him by taking a bite and if he moaned a little while tasting Grantaire’s baking then neither of them commented, although the pleased glint in Grantaire’s eyes spoke volumes. 

“It’s delicious. You’re definitely forgiven.” 

Grantaire gave a small smile and placed one on his own plate. “Best pancake I’ve ever tasted.” Enjolras added for good measure. Apparently Courfeyrac was under the impression that he didn’t praise his husband enough and after the sketchbook disaster Enjolras was so desperate that he was willing to even listen to Courf. Speaking of sketchbooks…

“I had a look at the website of the art school Jehan mentioned last night,” Enjolras brought up the subject absentmindedly taking a bite of his pancake. Grantaire, now sitting across from him enjoying his own pancake suddenly lowered his fork giving his husband his full attention. 

Embolden by this Enjolras cleared his throat and continued: “Apparently all you need to do to apply is hand in a portfolio consisting of five sketches, at least a high school diploma and some general information about yourself. Application ends in a week so we have time. Do you have any sketches you’ve already done that you think might work?”

Grantaire seemed to weigh his answer before settling on “I have some that might work. Any specific criteria they want?”

“Not that I read of.”

At that Grantaire nodded and they continued eating in silence, but for the first time it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Enjolras couldn’t help noticing it was the longest discussion they’ve had alone since they’ve been married and he was a little relieved it didn’t end in another argument or uncomfortable dilemma. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long but here it is! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Once again I would just like to say thank you for all of you still reading this! And the comments!  
> They always make my day! <3


	10. It's the One Who Won't be Taken Who Cannot Seem to Give

Suddenly there was a knock on the door breaking their comfortable breakfast. Enjolras sighed and went to answer it just to take two steps backwards eyes wide in what Grantaire would call a mixture of fright and confusion. 

That’s of course when Feuilly stormed in.

“You’re married to ENJOLRAS!” He looked ready to strangle Grantaire and maybe if he wasn’t so hungover Grantaire would’ve been scared. Now he was just tired.

“Yes and apparently your activist leader is my husband. What’s your point?”

He could see Enjolras out of the corner of his eye stifling a laugh. 

“I…” Feuilly stumbled, then opted for sitting down first.

“I’m making coffee. I need coffee.” Grantaire mumbled before leaving a red-faced Feuilly in his living room and scuffling off to the kitchen. When he came back with two steaming cups Feuilly had calmed down considerably. 

Bahorel had also shown up in the meantime and was talking silently to Enjolras. About what Grantaire didn’t want to know.   
Grantaire nodded a greeting to Bahorel before handing Feuilly his cup. 

He cleared his throat, “So…”

This was met with a glare before Feuilly rolled his eyes and gave up.

“You and I will have this discussion. Don’t think we won’t ‘Taire, but Bahorel really wants to take you boxing today. Right Bahorel?” Feuilly shot a glare his boyfriend’s way and Grantaire had to suppresses a laugh when it took Bahorel a second before he stammered “Oh yeah. Boxing. Right. Want to join me R?”

Ignoring Bahorel’s question Grantaire turned to Feuilly. “You’re not mad at me then?”

“Like I said. We’ll have this discussion. But not right now. Right now I’m going to have it with Enjolras.” 

Grantaire felt his stomach sink. He sneaked a glace at his husband but apparently Enjolras stood unmoved, perfect neutral poker face in place. Defeated Grantaire saluted Feuilly and followed a grinning Bahorel out the door. 

* * *  
Enjolras had expected Feuilly to erupt in another fit of anger once Grantaire left the apartment but instead his friend looked at him with a steady gaze and said: “Sit.”

Surprisingly Enjolras found that was worse.

He took a seat on the couch nonetheless and Feuilly continued: “Explain.”

Enjolras sighed and unconsciously ran his hand through his curls. 

“About four weeks ago my father called and explained that there was a family who could not pay off the amount of money they borrowed from him. However, the alpha of that family had an omega son who he was willing to give us to settle the debt. My father believed it was high time I started creating a brood and offered me my first of what he believed many omegas. Naturally I told him to fuck off.” 

“Naturally.” 

“That was until three weeks ago Bossuet came up to me after a meeting and asked whether I would be opposed to accepting the offer. Apparently the omega that was going to be sold was a childhood friend of his, so I called my father that night and agreed to marry the man. Feuilly you have to believe me I would have never accepted it if it wasn’t for Bossuet and –”

“Enjolras,” Feuilly replied calmly. “I know you. You’re one of my closest friends and I’m sure you did it to help. In fact I know. Bossuet explained the whole thing to me last night.”

“Then why did you –”

“I wanted to hear it from you. And honestly I want to discuss what your plan is now that you’re married to R because whatever you’re doing isn’t working.” 

Enjolras gave a curt nod. Feuilly was right. He was absolutely hopeless when it came to Grantaire.

Feuilly gave a warm, fond smile before continuing. “Enjolras I love you but you clearly need to learn how to flirt. Speaking of, please tell me the rumour of you googling how to make your omega more comfortable is a lie and you didn’t actually scent mark R’s sketchbook?”

Enjolras couldn’t help dropping his head into his hand and groaning. And Feuilly, the bastard, just laughed.

“So,” he asked smugly. “What do you think?”

Enjolras could feel his face blush. He cleared his throat. “He’s okay I guess.”

At that Feuilly burst out laughing again. “Enjolras, mate, I’ve known you for three years. And that blush with the amount of feigned nonchalance tells me you think ‘Taire is more than okay.”

Enjolras had to smile. Sure Feuilly was not as close to him as say Combeferre or Courfeyrac but he was one of the few people Enjolras considered a close friend. 

“I get it you don’t hate me for marrying your friend then.”

Feuilly became serious again. “Honestly, I’m relieved it’s you. Grantaire needs someone stable, not to mention someone who will respect him. He can be difficult and if he’d fallen into the hands of the wrong alpha…”

Feuilly shivered and Enjolras realised that Bossuet had similar reservations. 

“What do you mean ‘difficult’? So far he’s been really quiet and subdued.”

Feuilly huffed. “You call going to activist meetings and getting into an argument with an alpha subdued?” 

Enjolras frowned. “I suppose I don’t know him that well yet.”

“Look Enjolras, I’m telling you this because I care deeply about both of you. Grantaire can be quite mouthy, but underneath he has a lot of insecurities that if taken advantage of can really break him.”

Enjolras sat forward, now listening intently. “What kind of insecurities?”

“Mostly his looks and his drinking habits, partly him presenting as an omega in general. He seems to believe that he is unworthy and won’t ever be loved because he’s not good enough. You can blame society and the bullies at his high school for that one.”

All Enjolras could do was nod. He wouldn’t have guessed Grantaire was bullied. 

“What about his art?”

Feuilly’s face lit up at the change of topic. “It’s his world. And one of the few things R agrees that he’s good with. You’re doing the right thing sending him to that art school.”

“How’d you?”

“Courfeyrac,” they both said in union. 

The rest of Feuilly’s visit went by in a rush after that, the two men switching between topics of Grantaire and upcoming rallies. Without realising two hours had gone by so quickly Enjolras was surprised when the door opened and a tired but smiling Grantaire came in with Bahorel. 

“Glad to see you didn’t kill him,” Bahorel smirked. 

Enjolras watched Grantaire excuse himself to take a shower and leave the room. He signed. 

“How was boxing?”

Bahorel beamed. “Your husband has an excellent right hook.”

Enjolras couldn’t help feeling proud. 

After some small talk Enjolras’ friends head out, but not before Feuilly leaned in to whisper “By the way, Grantaire loves to cuddle” before smirking and walking out. 

Enjolras was left feeling mute. Well that made two of them.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of couldn't stop writing when I started so now you have two chapters...  
> :D


	11. Some Say Love is a Hunger...

Grantaire lay in bed reflecting on the past two weeks. It had been a few days since the first meeting and Grantaire couldn’t help but to think something significant happened that night. It was as if just by showing up Enjolras had harvest this new-found respect for him. It was not that surprising given that Enjolras, his Enjolras, was actually the leader of an omega rights activist organisation. 

All doubt Grantaire had a week ago about Enjolras’ intentions had disappeared. The more conversations Grantaire had with their friends the more he realised that his husband was just cold of nature. Enjolras’ stiffness and coldness had nothing to do with him. It was how he treated everyone, well except Combeferre and Courfeyrac. 

Grantaire couldn’t deny the fact that he sometimes got jealous of Courfeyrac. Whenever his name came up in conversation Enjolras seemed to speak so fondly of him.   
That’s a thing now. They talk. 

Feuilly must have really scared Enjolras senseless because he’d been making quite an effort these last few days. They finally found out a routine that worked. Grantaire had his husband’s work schedule on his phone and planned dinner accordingly, while Enjolras had made an effort to not stay after hours at the office. So far Enjolras was only late for dinner once. 

And it didn’t end there. While helping Grantaire with his application Enjolras had been spending more time with him and to Grantaire’s great surprise it wasn’t so nerve-racking.   
For someone who was running a whole organisations about omegas Enjolras knew surprisingly little about them. Grantaire found it enduring. 

They had spent so much time together that Grantaire even started bickering with Enjolras today. He hadn’t meant for the alpha to hear the scoff that erupted after something ridiculous Enjolras said and for a brief second the omega in Grantaire panicked. However, one look at Enjolras who had an amused look on his face caused Grantaire to relax. So he simply cleared his throat and vocalised his reaction stating “I disagree.”

“Of course you do,” was all Enjolras said but his eyes were fond and Grantaire had to look down to hide his blush. They’d continued to bicker lightly about whatever illusions Enjolras had about the world, but somehow it never got out of hand like the time at the meeting. Enjolras stayed clear of personal attacks, something that Grantaire was secretly grateful for.

It was all going so well and then tonight happened. Enjolras was home earlier than usual and after eating an early dinner suggested they watch a movie. It was when they were both resting on the couch that Enjolras shifted, causing their shoulders to brush together. The contact immediately sent a rush of heat through Grantaire and he had bitten hard on his lower lip.

This in turn had captured Enjolras’ attention because before Grantaire could fully comprehend what was happening they were navigating towards each other and kissing. It was passionate, yet gentle and Grantaire was in heaven. Until he felt the all too familiar presence of slick. His breath hitched and he had quickly drawn back, praying that Enjolras wouldn’t notice. When the film ended Grantaire excused himself, pretending he was exhausted and was going to call it an early night.

It was absolutely mortifying! Stupid alpha with his stupid alpha pheromones smelling so damn good! 

This was why he hated being an omega.

* * *

It was all Courfeyrac’s fault. 

Stupid Courfeyrac with his stupid love advice!

More physical contact he said. Well guess what? Grantaire ran off! He actually ran off.

Enjolras laid his head back on the couch and groaned. It was going so well. Grantaire had gotten more comfortable around him and was finally talking more and then what does he do? He tried flirting with him and Grantaire was mortified. 

And why wouldn’t he be, Enjolras reasoned, he got me for a husband. 

Abandoning the couch in search of his bed, Enjolras’ switched off all the lights and climbed under the blankets but his body wouldn’t settle. Spending more time with Grantaire meant being constantly surrounded by his scent. 

Not that Enjolras complained. Grantaire smelt great, but that was the problem. The alpha in Enjolras clearly wasn’t used to being in an omega’s company the whole time, especially one as enticing as Grantaire. 

And then he kissed him. 

Enjolras groaned again and tried to snuggle more under the covers. Grantaire just looked so good biting his lip and Enjolras didn’t think straight. At first it had seemed as if he might have been just as eager but then Grantaire stopped and ran off as soon as the film ended. 

Enjolras knew he crossed a line and the hard on between his legs was not helping.

Nope. Not at all. 

* * *

The next morning after what Grantaire called The Incident he got up early enough to make breakfast. He was determined to not make things awkward again between him and Enjolras.  
Surely Enjolras wouldn’t make too big of a deal of it? Grantaire groaned and he lay his head on the cool surface of the kitchen table. Surely Enjolras wouldn’t think less of him?

But of course he would! Hell, he must think Grantaire is some cheap whore who gets wet when an alpha just as much as touches him. Grantaire let out a small whimper. It has never happened before. He’s never reacted so strongly to anyone before just from a kiss.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Enjolras walked out. He looked tired and frustrated, yet ever so handsome. Grantaire stood up straighter and softly said: “Morning. Would you like some eggs and toast?”

He couldn’t help noticing Enjolras’ hesitation before he agreed. While Grantaire made breakfast he could hear his alpha moving about setting the table. All through dinner Grantaire subtly watched his alpha knowing Enjolras well enough by now to see he was trying to formulate his wording in his head.

As predicted Enjolras cleared his throat, but unlike his usual long tirades he simply settled on “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable last night. I was out of line.”

It took Grantaire a second to realise why he was apologising before it hit him. 

“No no! Enjolras it was fine seriously. I just – I . Um, it wasn’t you or your actions. Don’t worry. I just – ”

“Panicked,” Enjolras finished for Grantaire, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Yeah panicked.” Grantaire smiled crookedly.

By the time Enjolras left for work Grantaire realised two things. One: Enjolras was not upset, but nervous about romantic gestures. And two: Grantaire would have to treat carefully to avoid breaking Enjolras heart. For all that Enjolras was, passion, anger, strength, determination (honestly Grantaire could go on) he had one insecurity: fear of rejection. 

Grantaire was just glad he had realised it so soon. 

* * *

Enjolras felt annoyed all day. He wrote it off to the stress of the case taking its toll and all the Grantaire drama added on. Enjolras felt he was at breaking point. And yet, after all this even he was shocked when Lamarque called him into his office in the middle of the day and told him to take the week off. 

“Sir I don’t understand!” Enjolras tried to reason. “We are at the brink of finishing the preparation for the trial. I cannot possibly take a week off now! I’m fine I swear!” Enjolras argued getting exasperated. 

Lamarque replied by a stern look.   
“Enjolras, in no situation, no matter what you say, will I allow you to keep working this week. Not even an alpha as controlled and stubborn as you.”

“What does me being an alpha have to do with it!” Enjolras complained while throwing up his hands.

Lamarque gave him an almost pitying look and if Enjolras wasn’t as tried and overworked as he was he probably would have noticed the elephant in the room. Or perhaps not, seeing as how Enjolras could be pretty oblivious. 

“Enjolras, I’m done with this discussion. Get your coat, I won’t be seeing you till next week.”

And with that Lamarque turned back to his paperwork and left a defeated, but still fuming Enjolras, to stomp out of the office. 

Enjolras couldn’t help silently growling at all the glances he was receiving on his way out. Couldn’t his co-workers just mind their own business. If it wasn’t embarrassing enough that Lamarque thought he needed a week off work, now he had to deal with all the whispers and looks. 

And it didn’t stop there. On his walk home he was acutely aware that whenever he passed by an omega they whimpered. Enjolras frowned wondering whether his scent reeked of anger scaring those around him. It was not until another alpha growled at him that Enjolras paused, eyes going large as the sudden realisation hit him. 

It couldn’t be. Surely not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dum Dum Dum...


	12. ... An endless Aching Need

Grantaire woke up the next morning late feeling uneasy. Something was off. He quickly got dressed and stumbled to the kitchen, ready to make himself some much needed coffee when he passed Enjolras’ briefcase sitting next to the table. 

Grantaire frowned.   
Hadn’t Enjolras gone to work? 

Grantaire tried to remember whether his husband mentioned something about having the day off but nothing came up. So he decided to go to Enjolras’ room to check. Could it be he was sick?   
The moment Grantaire opened the door to Enjolras’ bedroom he immediately regretted it. He was hit by the full force of alpha pheromones. And that’s when Grantaire realised why his husband was home.   
Enjolras was in rut.

A small whimper brought Grantaire back to earth. Enjolras must have smelled the omega hovering just outside with the door still halve closed. Grantaire’s instincts were a mixture of comfort or flight. On the one hand, wasn’t it his duty to help Enjolras through this? On the other hand they hadn’t discussed Grantaire’s role yet and if he were to be absolutely honest the concept of having an alpha knot him still scared him to death.

From hearsay Grantaire knew that an alpha in rut had two moods: helpless or aggressive. Some alphas were just as needy as an omega in heat, but others tend to lash out at their omegas and violently fuck them until they were sated. If Enjolras were the latter Grantaire would rather keep a respectable distance. And yet Grantaire couldn’t help imagining it. 

Enjolras in all his righteous fury just taking him. Violently pushing him down and breaching him without any other thought than his own pleasure. Enjolras, beautiful with anger radiating off of him that could blind anyone who stared too long just pounding into him, deaf to his cries. 

An involuntary shiver ran down Grantaire’s spine, a part of his brain telling him he shouldn’t find that idea so arousing, but a different part of his brain telling him that he was always a masochist.   
Another whimper escaped his alpha and Grantaire decided that if Enjolras was violent then he would’ve attacked him by now, so with caution Grantaire pushed the door open and entered. What he saw broke his heart.

Enjolras was on the bed, turning violently trying to get friction. His wrists were handcuffed to the headboard of the bed, revealing red abused skin that was undoubtingly the result of the metal digging into it whenever Enjolras twisted or turned on the mattress. 

What an idiot! Of course Enjolras would be the kind of alpha who handcuffed himself to his bed to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. Grantaire was annoyed, but not less cautious. There was always the chance of Enjolras doing that to himself because he knew he would be violent. And yet Grantaire seriously doubted it; a small part of him already understanding that Enjolras is not that kind of alpha.   
When Enjolras’ glazy eyes fell on Grantaire he went still and simply stared at the omega with his puppy blue eyes. Reflected in them was an aching need for Grantaire, overbearing the other prominent look of hunger. 

Grantaire’s heart was beating a mile a minute when he cautiously approached the bed, ready to dart back if Enjolras tried something, but the alpha did not move. Grantaire observed the rapid rise and fall of Enjolras’ chest, the only indication of the self-restrain it took not to reach for Grantaire. 

Grantaire’s eyes trailed Enjolras strong muscular arms now raised above his head in what must have been a very uncomfortable position. When he saw the alpha’s abused wrists he let out a sigh. 

“Why did you do this to yourself?”

The question was asked in a soft, gentle voice, so unlike the fearful or sarcastic tones Enjolras must have been used to hearing from Grantaire. Enjolras must have picked up on it because he recoiled slightly and lowered his eyes. Grantaire had never seen him look so vulnerable and weak.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

The reply came a moment later, obviously taking a lot of effort to say. Another thing Grantaire remembered hearing was that alphas in rut rarely spoke. They tend to reply in growls and nips, however it would seem that Enjolras was not yet far enough into his rut to become incoherent.

That was good. This was something Grantaire could take advantage of. 

“Hey. It’s alright. You won’t hurt me. Do you need anything? Water? Food?”

Enjolras hesitated before licking his lips and rasping out: “Water”.

Grantaire immediately disappeared to get his husband a glass of water. On second though he brought two glasses and three bottles of water. Rather safe than sorry.

When in the kitchen Grantaire had come to a decision. He was going to help Enjolras through his rut. The alpha seemed calm enough that he wouldn’t hurt him and there was something about seeing Enjolras so helpless and suffering that made Grantaire want to help in what ever way he could. 

Of course he had no experience when it came to fucking an alpha through his rut or being with an alpha in general. Grantaire had had sex, sure, but only ever with betas or other omegas. At least he was skilled in that area of expertise, so he should be able to at least ease his alphas appetite. Though in the back of his mind he knew Enjolras would be too far away to enjoy any particular skills Grantaire had to offer. Right now he just wanted a hole to fill and well, Grantaire was very willing to ease his Apollo’s suffering.

However, it was not only his consent that was needed – and knowing Enjolras this next part was going to be crucial. 

* * *

Grantaire. Grantaire. Grantaire.

He was here. He was safe. 

He was going to help. Please help.

No. Consent. Consent is important.

But he smelled so good. 

No! Enjolras get a grip. 

When Grantaire returned to the bedroom Enjolras tried to sit up but let out frustrated groans instead when he couldn’t find any comfortable way of sitting to ease his body. It was as if his whole skin was on fire. 

He vaguely heard his husband shush him and offer him words of encouragement. And then there was water. Sweet cold, blessed water that cooled his whole body down. And the best was it was Grantaire who held the glass and gently lifted it to his mouth. 

“Grantaire.” It was only one word but right now it was all Enjolras could manage. He didn’t want it to happen like this. Grantaire probably didn’t even want to have sex with him. Should he ask him anyway?   
Out of all the omegas Enjolras could think of Grantaire was the only one he wanted – no he needed. 

Grantaire must have picked up on the question and plea in that word because he brushed a wet curl from his forehead and asked: “Do you permit it?”

Enjolras tried to convey his consent by violently nodding his head but that just made him dizzy. Thankfully it must have worked because Grantaire gave one of his deep laughs – not one of the sarcastic hollow ones, one of the deep rich ones. 

“Okay. It’s going to be fine Apollo. Just trust me.”

“Don’t call me that.” Annoying Grantaire. He’s mocking me. Bastard. He just needs to – oh. OH!

Before Enjolras could finish his train of thought of how much he hated being compared to a deity he felt a wet warmth engulf him and his hips involuntarily bucked up. Suddenly there were too hands firmly placed on his offending hips keeping him in place as the heat surrounding him increased and – was that Grantaire’s tongue. 

And oh, bliss utter bliss. Yes. Oh Grantaire!

* * *

The wet sucking sound Grantaire was making as he tried to take Enjolras further and further into his mouth was drowned out by the alpha’s moans of “please” and “more”. Grantaire would be lying if he said hearing Enjolras whimpering and falling apart because of him didn’t do things to Grantaire’s ego. Enjolras’ power was his words and to hear him rambling nonsense was electrifying. 

So Grantaire increased his pace, holding Enjolras firmly in place. He had only been down there for a few seconds and the alpha was already leaking an alarming amount of precum. Perhaps it’s perfectly normal during rut Grantaire thought, but when Enjolras cried out without warning after barely a minute a different thought entered Grantaire’s head. 

Did Enjolras have any sexual experience at all? While swallowing Grantaire remembered a conversation with Feuilly where he told him Grantaire was the first omega Enjolras had ever courted. Enjolras didn’t strike Grantaire as someone who would fool around just for the fun of it, so maybe Grantaire would be his first in more than one regard. 

With this in mind Grantaire lifted his head to observe the man in question. Enjolras looked utterly debauched and that just after a blow-job. Grantaire couldn’t wait to see how he would look after proper sex. Enjolras was breathing rapidly, mouth open, eyes closed with an adorable blush on his cheeks and torso. Apollo indeed, Grantaire thought as he raked his eyes over Enjolras’ toned biceps and pecks.   
His eyes drifted lower, the alpha’s arousal still obvious. Grantaire knew that once in rut an alpha would stay erect until his knot formed and all the semen was milked out of him. It was still going to be awhile before Enjolras would be back to normal, but the orgasm should take the edge of at least until Grantaire was prepared for him. 

Shuffling onto the bed Grantaire freed himself from his clothing and placed his legs astride over a still recovering Enjolras. He reached behind him and slowly started fingering himself open for his alpha. It was hardly difficult seeing how wet Grantaire was simply from watching Enjolras come undone before his very eyes seconds ago. 

Soon the room was once again filled with moans – Grantaire’s this time. When he was up to three fingers, back arched and eyes blissfully closed as he led out a particular load moan, Grantaire decided he was ready. When he opened his eyes and removed his fingers he was met with Enjolras’ hungry gaze steadily watching him. How long had Enjolras been observing him? 

The atmosphere had become tense all of a sudden, Enjolras pheromones filling the air with desire and arousal. Grantaire licked his lips and tried really hard not to whimper at the intense gaze of his alpha. It was electrifying knowing Enjolras not only needed him but wanted him. He was desired.

Enjolras let out a deep growl at the back of his throat and Grantaire knew it was time. He slowly manoeuvred himself – never loosing eye contact – until he was hovering directly above Enjolras’ hardness and then quickly slid down, penetrating himself. Enjolras howled. He honestly threw back his head and led out a load howl. Then when Grantaire didn’t do anything he growled again.  
Grantaire couldn’t help the smirk he had. Enjolras was just so needy. It was clear by now that the alpha was deep in rut and lost all ability to speak so Grantaire was led to believe that the annoyed growl Enjolras just led out probably translated to “Get on with it!”. Grantaire couldn’t agree more.

At an annoyingly slow pace he lifted himself up and sunk down again on Enjolras’ cock setting a slow agonising rhythm. He was going to have his fun. 

* * *

Enjolras let out another frustrated groan and tried to thrust upwards into Grantaire but the omegas’ weight held him in place, giving him no leverage. Enjolras, upon seeing that his growls and teeth didn’t affect the omega tried a different tactic and led out a despairing whine. 

This seemed to work since soon Grantaire was hushing Enjolras and picking up his pace on his cock. The alpha led out an approved growl and started moaning. The omega just felt so good! So tight and warm and wet. 

Grantaire began seriously riding Enjolras into the mattress and the alpha lost the last coherent thoughts he still possessed; his brain turning into putty and a repetition of Grantaire, Grantaire, Grantaire. 

* * *

Meanwhile Grantaire himself was getting close moaning uncontrollably. He’d found that spot inside of him and was hitting it on every rise and fall motion. Damn Enjolras had a nice dick. Have he told him that yet? He should definitely tell him that. It was not very thick but it was long and honestly Grantaire didn’t care about thickness because Enjolras’ knot still had to expand which will undoubtingly make him very thick so Grantaire didn’t complain. If anything he was relieved. He might be able to pull this off. 

It was while having this train of thoughts, Enjolras’ dick pulsing in Grantaire’s ass, when he felt it. The knot was starting to grow. Vaguely Grantaire registered he should start timing his thrusts. He’d heard horror stories about alphas’ knots landing outside of their omega’s bodies once they were fully expanded. Grantaire did not wish that kind of pain on him or Enjolras so he started to concentrate.   
Enjolras however seemed to be completely oblivious to what was happening. He continued to moan loudly, increasing in volume as his knot increased in size catching Grantaire’s rim a few times. Grantaire was just wondering if they were going to get a noise complaint when with a final downwards motion the knot caught and Grantaire breathed a sigh of relief at it being seated inside. 

Enjolras’ eyes flew open and he led out an unsure cry, confused at what was happening. Grantaire, aware that they were both still rock-hard started rocking back and forth trying to get as much friction as possible while simultaneously taking himself in hand. 

And then yes, finally, yes! Enjolras cock was pressing against his prostate and Grantaire entered sweet oblivion. The sound and view of the omega losing himself in pleasure and spilling on his alpha’s chest must have done it for Enjolras because the next thing Grantaire knew he was filled with a hot fluid and Enjolras was letting out pained whimpers signalling his sensitivity post-orgasm.

The knot itself had not deflated yet and for a while neither Grantaire or Enjolras moved. Grantaire sat motionless trying to catch his breath. 

It was a whine from Enjolras that brought Grantaire back and he realised for the first time that he probably should have released Enjolras from the metal cuffs. He found the key in the bedside drawer, ignoring the protestations coming from an annoyed Enjolras at Grantaire’s movement on his sensitive dick.

Grantaire was surprised however when after uncuffing Enjolras’ wrists the alpha immediately wrapped his arms around Grantaire and pulled him down to the mattress, pressing Grantaire to his chest. When Grantaire tried to change positions Enjolras gave a warning growl and all Grantaire could do was give an amused huff. Well then, it would seem his alpha liked cuddling after really intense sex.   
Grantaire was not going to complain.


End file.
